


All that we see or seem

by SlantedKnitting



Series: big bangs and challenges [22]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Canon Era, Ghosts, M/M, Magic, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:08:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27179698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlantedKnitting/pseuds/SlantedKnitting
Summary: Merlin, run out of his home, searches for a new place to settle down. He comes across Camelot, a very strange city where everyone seems to know he doesn't belong. The prince doesn't seem to mind his presence, though, and Merlin is determined to make a new home for himself.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: big bangs and challenges [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1172240
Comments: 31
Kudos: 173
Collections: Tavernfest Round 1: Ghosts and Hauntings





	All that we see or seem

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this prompt](https://kinkme-merlin.livejournal.com/17048.html?thread=15676568#t15676568) over at the old kink meme (link contains spoilers for the fic).
> 
> Thanks to [mother_of_lions](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mother_of_lions) and [divine529](https://archiveofourown.org/users/divine529) for the beta jobs!

Merlin pulled the thin blanket tighter around himself as he inched closer to his meagre fire. He had tried to use his magic to stoke the flames, but it was no use. The wind kept nearly blowing them out again.

He’d barely slept from the cold. The sun was finally rising, but it made little difference. If he sat here much longer, he was going to lose feeling in his fingers and toes.

He stood and packed up his things, and moving helped a little. Or maybe it just distracted him from the cold. Either way, he was ready to go within a few minutes. He stamped out the fire and went on his way.

He’d been travelling for days, maybe even a week. He’d lost count of how many nights he’d spent in the woods, wrapped in what little his mother had been able to spare for him. His departure had been rushed, and neither of them had thought of how long this journey might take. He’d left with barely any food, not nearly enough blankets for the coming winter, and his father’s old hunting knives. For protection. And for hunting.

Merlin wasn’t a very proficient hunter. His father hadn’t been around to teach him. He’d been getting by mostly on stale bread, berries, and the occasional fish if he was quick enough with the knives. He’d been thinking of trying to set traps and maybe see if he could catch a rabbit.

He didn’t know how long he could continue on like this, though. He would run out of bread soon enough, and there were never really enough berries to fill him up, and he might end up freezing besides. He had to find real shelter, real food, a real life.

His old life had been good, or at least as good as it could have been. He’d had a mother and a best friend, a roof over his head, and enough food to live on. He’d never had a sense of belonging, but he supposed he never might, and at least the rest of the basics had been covered.

The rest of his village hadn’t been so forgiving. His magic made him too different, too dangerous, and they’d threatened to run him out if he didn’t leave on his own. So, now, here he was, wandering the countryside, trying to find a new home.

He wasn’t optimistic. He’d passed by two other villages so far, and neither of them had wanted to take him in. They didn’t want another mouth to feed, there weren’t any vacant homes, there weren’t any unmet needs he could help with. And they hadn’t even known about his magic.

Merlin didn’t know if he would ever find a place he truly belonged. All he wanted to do was blend in and live his life, like everyone else.

~~~~

Through fields and woods, between mountains and streams, down cliffs and up hills, Merlin walked. The days grew colder, the nights unbearably so, and still he walked. His jacket was too thin, his shoes were starting to wear, and yet he walked on.

He walked until he thought he might never reach another village again.

Indeed, the next thing he came across was not a village, but a city. A city with a great castle at the centre. He saw it at a distance one morning, looming large like a beacon.

It took him nearly an entire day to reach the gates, arriving just as the sun was about to set.

The city was bustling, everyone hurrying to finish their business for the day before they lost the light. Merlin wandered the streets, taking in the sights and the people, and the people took him in as well. It seemed like nearly everyone stopped what they were doing to stare at him as he walked past. He must have stood out, with his inappropriately lightweight jacket and the bags on his back. Maybe the city didn’t get many travellers.

He did his best to ignore the staring and just look around. The houses were nicer here than in any village he’d been to, and the people better dressed. As he walked closer to the castle, the houses grew bigger, the clothes cleaner and brighter and more fashionable.

He found a tavern full to the brim with knights and townsfolk, all of whom turned to look at him when he entered. Feeling like some horrible intruder, he made his way to the bar and asked for a room. The innkeeper gave him an odd look and muttered something under his breath. But he agreed, so Merlin slept in a bed for the first time in nearly two weeks.

~~~~

In the morning, Merlin woke feeling warm and refreshed. His bed was musty, but he had the room to himself and plenty of blankets, so he lay there for a while, thinking through his options.

The city was distinctly unfriendly. Now that he was rested, he could find food and maybe a new pair of shoes, and he could keep walking until he found somewhere more welcoming. He just wanted to be somewhere nice, somewhere he belonged, somewhere people didn’t see him as a monster.

He might have to hide his magic to make that last part possible, though. Not that he hadn’t been attempting to hide his magic his entire life, to varying degrees of success. Maybe he could find a magical village somewhere, and he could settle down there and be himself. Surely, there had to be a community that would take him in and let him be who he truly was. Surely, there were others like him out there.

Deciding that was his best bet, Merlin got out of bed and went down to inquire about breakfast.

The innkeeper was adamant that there was none. He wasn’t unpleasant about it, but he insisted his tavern didn’t sell food and that Merlin would have to fend for himself.

It was disappointing, but Merlin thought it couldn’t be too hard to find another tavern somewhere in the city that would be willing to feed him.

He left the tavern and found that the city was alive and well in the early hours. Everyone was out and about, getting started on their work for the day. Yet, still, everyone turned to look at Merlin as he passed by. He wasn’t even carrying his pack with all his things to mark him as a traveller, but somehow they all knew he didn’t belong.

He did his best to ignore the staring, minding his own business and keeping an eye out for signs of where he might be able to find food. He saw what he thought might be a bakery up ahead, and—

“Watch it! Hey!”

Merlin had walked straight into someone, knocking various things out of an old man’s hands. He’d been carrying books and vials and bags, and most of it had been sent sprawling across the dirt path.

“Sorry,” Merlin said, leaning down to start picking things up. “Sorry, I’m sorry.”

The old man bent down with a groan and lifted a book. “You should watch where you’re going.”

“I’m sorry,” Merlin said again. He handed over some unbroken vials, and the old man stood back up. Merlin continued collecting the dropped items.

“Who are you?” the man asked.

“I’m Merlin.” He stood and handed over more of the man’s things.

“Yes, but… who _are_ you?”

“I’m… Merlin. I just—I was looking for food, and I got distracted, and I ran into you.”

The old man looked down at where the contents of his broken vials were staining the dirt.

“I’m very sorry,” Merlin said again.

The man gave him a look, squinting like he wasn’t quite sure what he was looking at. “I don’t suppose you could help me carry the rest of my things? Now that you’ve knocked them all out of order.”

“I—” The old man started handing over his things, ignoring Merlin’s weak protests. When Merlin’s arms were completely full, he took off, and Merlin was forced to follow. “Where are we going?” he asked.

“You’ll see.”

Merlin didn’t like that answer. And he didn’t like that everyone was still staring at him. There must be something about his clothes giving him away, or maybe his hairstyle—if it could even be called that—was out of fashion. Whatever it was, it marked him as other, and no one seemed comfortable with his presence.

He followed the old man up the path to the castle, across the courtyard, and up a flight of stairs. His arms were starting to hurt from carrying so many things, and he wondered how the old man had been able to do it by himself.

“Here,” the man said, opening a door at the top of the stairs and gesturing for Merlin to go inside.

Merlin stepped in. The room was filled with more vials, potions, cauldrons, strange tools he couldn’t identify, herbs and plants, workbenches, books, books, and more books. The space looked very well lived in. There was even a bed in the corner.

“On the table,” the man said, so Merlin deposited the items on the nearest table, careful not to let any of the remaining vials roll off and break on the floor. “Now,” the man said, “who are you?”

“I’m Merlin, like I said.”

“Where did you come from?”

“Ealdor, in Essetir.” Merlin wasn’t sure he liked this line of questioning.

“Why are you here?”

“I was… well, I stayed at the tavern last night, and I was looking for food—”

“Why are you _here_?” the old man asked. “In Camelot?”

“I came across it while I was walking.”

“And why were you walking?”

“Well, I was… looking for food. For work. For a home. May I ask your name?”

“Didn’t I give it? I’m Gaius, court physician.” Gaius gave him a long, appraising look. “Looking for work, you say?”

“Yes.”

“No work in Ealdor?”

Merlin shook his head. There was work, of course, but he’d been run out of the village. He couldn’t explain that, though, not without revealing his magic, and that was the last thing he wanted to do considering how much of an outsider he clearly already was.

“Hm.” Gaius sighed. “Well, I suppose I could use the help. Come over here.” He led Merlin over to a workbench and started pointing out vials. “This is for Lady Percival, this one for Sir Olwin, and that for the Lady Morgana.”

Merlin shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

“This is work for you, boy, or were you hoping for something more glamorous? I will pay you, of course.”

Thinking he might as well take the opportunity to earn a few more coins, Merlin started picking up the vials. He shoved them into a bag Gaius gave him, listening as Gaius gave out directions to where his various patients lived. Merlin did his best to visualise the paths he was going to take, but he knew he was going to have to stop and ask for help along the way. The castle was enormous, and Gaius was listing so many different corridors and stairways, and it would be a miracle if Merlin didn’t end up lost.

“Be on your way,” Gaius said when he was finished with his instructions.

Merlin hurried out, going over what Gaius had told him. _Head left at the first corner, go down the second set of stairs, and knock on the third door on the right._

Merlin delivered the first potion to Lady Percival. She seemed rather upset to see him, asking after Gaius and demanding to know why he’d taken up an assistant. Merlin didn’t have any answers that satisfied her, and she ended up shooing him out of her chambers rather rudely.

Maybe she was friends with Gaius, or maybe she was very careful about who she let into her home. Regardless, Merlin carried on to Sir Olwin’s.

_Continue to the end of the corridor, take the stairs up, and walk across the hall. Go in the second door from the left, and…_

Merlin couldn’t remember anything after that. He’d gone in the second door from the left and was standing in what was probably a residential corridor, but he had no idea which door was Sir Olwin’s or even if any of them were his at all.

There was no one around, so Merlin backtracked to the hall and asked a guard. He seemed unwilling to make eye contact with Merlin, and even more unwilling to give out any information to a stranger. Merlin showed him the vial, explaining it was for Sir Olwin, but it didn’t matter. The guard wasn’t going to help him.

Merlin went back to the second door from the left and stared down the corridor, trying to remember what Gaius had said. _Go in the second door from the left, and…_

_And he’s the first door you’ll come to._

Merlin wasn’t entirely sure there hadn’t been more instructions in between that he’d missed, but Gaius had definitely ended with that. So, he knocked on the first door, and an old man opened up.

“Sir Olwin?” Merlin asked, hoping.

“Aye.”

Merlin held out the vial. “I’ve brought this from Gaius.”

Sir Olwain just stood there.

“Um… here,” Merlin said, holding out the vial a little more.

Sir Olwin reached out, missing the vial by quite a bit. Merlin pushed the vial into his hand, which was shockingly cold. He must have been terribly blind, although the upside was that he wasn’t nearly as put off by Merlin as everyone else seemed to be. Whatever it was that marked Merlin as an outsider, Sir Olwin couldn’t see it.

“Would you be able to tell me how to get to Lady Morgana’s chambers from here?” he asked.

Sir Olwin rambled off some vague directions that would take Merlin into the heart of the castle, although he wasn’t clear on exactly where Lady Morgana lived. Merlin thanked him anyway and started off.

As he ventured deeper into the castle, he saw more and more people. Servants, more guards, knights, noblemen, ladies of the court. Everyone seemed to be doing something, and everyone seemed to notice Merlin. He got so many stares, even a few dropped jaws, that he started rethinking this entire errand. He should have just declined Gaius’s offer and left the city and try to find a magical community.

Not that he had any proof such a thing existed. But, really, at this point, any place would be better than here.

Finally, he reached a wide corridor that was more heavily decorated than any other he’d been in. There were fewer doors here, although that didn’t help him in figuring out which one was Lady Morgana’s.

“Excuse me,” he said, stopping a servant girl who looked nice enough. “Would you be able to tell me which room is the Lady’s Morgana’s?”

The girl just looked at him for a moment, seemingly struck dumb with shock. Then she pointed weakly at the nearest door.

“Thanks,” Merlin muttered. He waited for her to walk away before knocking.

“Enter.” It was a man’s voice that responded.

Merlin opened the door and stepped inside. The room was large and finely furnished, with a bouquet on nearly every surface. There was a woman standing by one of the wide windows, her dark hair falling freely down her back. She was looking at Merlin as if she might make a run for it at any sudden movement.

Next to her was a man, tall and blond, and he was looking out the window, apparently uninterested in Lady Morgana’s visitor.

“Who are you?”

“I brought this from Gaius,” Merlin said, pulling the last vial out of the bag. “I’m assisting him.”

“All right, but… who _are_ you?”

“I’m Merlin.”

That didn’t seem to be the answer she wanted, but that was the only answer he had. The man turned to see what the fuss was about, and he looked Merlin up and down slowly, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“From Gaius, did you say?” Lady Morgana asked, coming over to Merlin.

“Yes.” Merlin held out the vial, and Lady Morgana took it gently, careful not to touch Merlin in the process.

“Are you new here?” she asked, and there was finally a hint of curiosity in her voice rather than fear.

“Just arrived last night.”

“Where are you from?”

“Essetir. A small village, you wouldn’t have heard of it.”

“No,” she agreed. “What brings you to Camelot?”

“I was looking for work.”

“Well.” She looked down at the vial in her hand. “It seems you found it.”

Merlin dared to look at the man again, and found him still staring, still inspecting.

“I’m sorry, I should introduce you. This is my brother, Prince Arthur.”

Prince Arthur just nodded his head, saying nothing. Merlin let his gaze linger. He’d never met a prince before. He looked the part, with his broad shoulders and sharp jawline and the sword at his hip. The sun coming in through the window made him look sort of shivery around the edges.

“Don’t mind him,” Lady Morgana said. “He doesn’t know how to behave.”

“Excuse you,” Prince Arthur said.

Lady Morgana just smiled and turned back to Merlin. “Tell Gaius thank you for me, would you please?”

“Of course.” Merlin spared one more glance at the prince before letting himself out.

He wandered slowly back through the castle, making eye contact with everyone who stared at him to see if that would put them off, but it didn’t. A lot of them seemed even more keen to look at him once he acknowledged them.

When he grew tired of it, Merlin hurried along back to Gaius’s.

“Any trouble?” Gaius asked from where he was stirring together a potion.

“Not really.” Merlin set down the bag. “Can I ask you a question?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Is there… does Camelot not get a lot of new people coming through?”

“Hm.” Gaius held the potion up to the sunlight and gave it a swirl. “I wouldn’t say so, no.”

“People are looking at me like they’ve never seen another person before.”

Gaius set down his vial and turned to look at Merlin. “And you can’t figure out why.”

“Exactly. Is there something wrong with me?”

“I wouldn’t put it that way.”

“But you know why,” Merlin pressed.

Gaius turned back to his work. “I can’t say. Perhaps it’s like you said, that we so rarely get someone new.”

“How can that be, though?” Merlin asked. “A great big city like this, there has to be all sorts wandering in and out.”

“It might have been like that some time ago. I’m afraid the times have changed. Camelot has changed.”

Merlin wanted to know more, to understand, but Gaius wasn’t being very forthcoming. If he couldn’t get any proper answers, he just wanted to collect his money and leave the city.

“I need some herbs,” Gaius said, setting down his potion. “Do you still have that bag?”

“Yes,” Merlin said hesitantly.

“I need henbane, wormwood, and sorrel. Do you know what they look like?”

“Yes.”

“Good. You’ll find them just outside the city.”

Merlin thought about refusing, about asking for his pay and moving on, but maybe Gaius would give him more money if he did this additional task, and it wasn’t like he’d be able to walk very far with the day half gone already. If he just did this, he could spend another night in the tavern and set off first thing in the morning. Once he found food.

He took up the bag again and left, making his way through the city. He passed by craftspeople, merchants, seamstresses, and finally, the bakery he’d seen that morning. There were breads lined up on the stall, and Merlin’s mouth watered as he went over.

“How much?” He asked, digging in his pockets for the money his mother had spared him.

“What?” the baker asked. He was staring at Merlin the same way everyone else had been doing.

“For a loaf. How much?”

“Are you serious?”

Merlin frowned. “Yes.” He held out the coins from his pocket.

The baker continued staring, and Merlin was starting to feel put out. All he wanted was some food, and he had the money for it, and he didn’t see what the problem was.

“It’s yours,” the baker finally said. “No fee.”

“Sorry?”

The baker picked up a loaf and shoved it forward, forcing Merlin to take it. “It’s yours,” he said again.

Merlin pocketed his coins and looked down at the bread. “Why?” he asked.

“You’re… just take it,” the baker muttered.

“I can’t just—”

“Take it and be on your way.”

Merlin took a step back, cradling the bread to his chest. “Thank you,” he said uncertainly.

The baker waved him off, so Merlin continued on the path out of the city. He made his way into the woods and finally stopped in a clearing, sitting on a fallen tree and tearing off a piece of bread.

It was good. It was the best food he’d had in a week. And it had been free, for some reason.

First the staring, and now this? Merlin hadn’t been to many places in his life, but this city certainly had to be strangest around.

He ate a few more bites of the bread before setting out to find Gaius’s herbs. He was down on all fours, inspecting a small plant that looked promising, when he felt that prickle on the back of his neck like someone was staring.

He glanced over his shoulder to see Prince Arthur standing a few trees away, watching Merlin even as he was tying up his horse. Merlin stood, not sure what to say or do. The prince walked over, closing the distance between them, and looked around at the plants Merlin had been investigating.

“What are you doing?” he asked, sounding amused.

“Looking for herbs. For Gaius.”

“Why?”

“Because he needs them.”

“No, I mean, why are you assisting him?”

“Because he’s paying me,” Merlin said, not sure how to answer the question.

“Why are you here?” Prince Arthur pressed. “Why did you come to Camelot?”

“I needed work, same as everyone.”

“Yes, but why _here_?”

“Why not here?” Merlin asked.

The prince shook his head. “You shouldn’t stay,” he said. “It’s not… it’s not a good home for you.”

“Why not?”

Prince Arthur pursed his lips, apparently unwilling to say anything more. He went back over to his horse, and Merlin went back to looking for herbs. He didn’t hear the prince mounting the horse or leaving, and when he looked over his shoulder again, the prince was just watching him.

Merlin ignored him and carried on. He wandered through the forest, and Arthur followed him from a distance, and Merlin did his best to pretend it wasn’t happening.

When it grew to be too annoying, Merlin decided to try to engage with him.

“Why are you watching me?”

“It’s my right.”

“I don’t think it is.”

“No?” Prince Arthur smiled. “Maybe I’m just looking out for Gaius. He’s been the court physician for many years and never needed an assistant before.”

“I didn’t hoodwink him into hiring me, if that’s what you’re insinuating.”

“No, you don’t look smart enough for that.”

“I—hey!”

Prince Arthur laughed, the corners of his eyes going wrinkly. He was sort of beautiful when he laughed, all neck and teeth and un-selfconscious.

“Why are you watching me?” Merlin asked again, hoping he could get a real answer with the prince’s guard down.

“You’re interesting,” Prince Arthur said.

“Not that interesting.”

The prince shrugged. “That remains to be seen. Will you be back tomorrow?”

“Probably not.”

“Shame.”

“You just told me I shouldn’t stay here,” Merlin reminded him.

“Most people ignore my advice.”

“Somehow I doubt that, being prince and all.”

“It comes with its downsides.”

“Yes, all that wealth and glory must be really taxing.”

Prince Arthur didn’t look amused. “Where is it you come from again?”

“Ealdor,” Merlin said, turning away and continuing on his hunt for herbs. It was very distracting having the prince following him around like this.

“I have to imagine they didn’t have royalty back in Ealdor, considering how irreverent you are.”

“It was just a village,” Merlin said. “No princes in sight. It made the view quite nice.”

The prince chuckled, and Merlin smiled to himself as he picked a leaf and added it to his bag.

“What was it like?” Prince Arthur asked.

“What was what like?”

“Ealdor. What was it like growing up in a small village?”

“It was nice, I guess. Quiet. Peaceful. No one followed me around while I did my chores, that’s for sure.”

“Didn’t you have friends?”

“Friends, yes. Stalkers, no.”

“What were they like?” the prince asked.

“Who?” Merlin picked another leaf.

“Your friends. Don’t you miss them?”

Merlin moved on to another plant and grabbed it at the stem, pulling it out of the ground by its roots. “It was just the one, really. Will. We grew up together.”

“How did he feel about you leaving?”

“Wasn’t like he had a say in the matter. I imagine he’s quite bored without me, though. He was always looking after me.”

“So, not unlike what I’m doing.”

Merlin uprooted another plant. “Yes, but I actually appreciated his company.”

“Am I boring you?”

“No,” Merlin muttered. If he was honest, he quite liked the attention. He’d never thought he’d be the sort to converse with royalty so easily, but something about Prince Arthur brought out his snideness. It wasn’t unlike when Will was around. The two of them had always ribbed each other, trading quips and making each other laugh.

“Why did you need looking out for?” the prince asked.

“What?”

“You said your friend looked out for you. Were you a trouble-maker?”

Merlin paused, not sure how to explain without giving away his magic. “I was… I was a bit clumsy, I suppose. My poor mother was always having to make apologies and excuses for me.”

“What’s she like?” Prince Arthur asked.

“My mother?” Merlin turned to face the prince. “She’s kind. The kindest woman I know.”

“And your father?”

“I didn’t know him.” He bent down to examine another plant.

“I didn’t know my mother,” Prince Arthur said quietly. “She died when I was born. You’re lucky to know yours.”

He sounded so earnest, so sad, that Merlin looked up at him.

“I know,” he said. “I’m sure you’re lucky to have your father, too.”

Prince Arthur sighed and crouched down next to Merlin, looking at the plant. “I suppose you could put it that way. Never really thought of myself as lucky.”

“You were born a prince,” Merlin said. “Doesn’t get much luckier than that.”

“Do yourself a favour,” the prince said, brushing his fingers though the plant’s leaves. “Don’t ever take one of Gaius’s potions to my father.”

“Why’s that?”

“He doesn’t like… you know.”

“What, new people?”

Prince Arthur rolled his eyes. “Yeah, new people.” He stood back up. “You’re very strange, Merlin.”

Merlin stood up as well. “I could say the same for you, coming out here and watching me pick herbs. Don’t you have better, more important things to do?”

“Are you sure you won’t be back tomorrow?”

“I...” Merlin wasn’t sure anymore. His dream from that morning of finding a magical community to take him in seemed far away now that he had some food in him, now that he had found a potential job, now that he had someone who apparently wanted him to stick around.

“There’s something about you,” Prince Arthur said, and his gaze dropped to Merlin’s lips.

For a wild moment, Merlin thought maybe the prince was going to kiss him.

Then he turned and walked away, leaving Merlin alone in the woods.

Merlin stared after him until he had disappeared through the trees, baffled by the entire interaction.

“Princes are weird,” he decided, and he could practically hear Will’s tired ‘you can say that again’ retort.

He looked through his bag to make sure he had everything Gaius had requested, and then he went back into the city.

Gaius wasn’t home, so he laid everything out carefully on a table for him and then went back to his room at the tavern. He sat on the edge of his bed and ate more of the free loaf he’d been given, thinking over the day.

Despite everyone else’s obvious misgivings about his presence in Camelot, neither Gaius nor Arthur seemed to mind him being here. They might have been the only ones, but it was a start, at least. Sooner or later, the rest of the city was bound to get used to him. Surely they’d get bored of the novelty of the newcomer at some point. And by then, maybe he’d have found a proper place to live and secured a real job with Gaius.

Part of him still ached to find some magical town to live in, but he had no proof such things existed, and even if they did, the chances of him wandering across one seemed low.

He knew his best bet was to stay put, to try to build a life in Camelot. He was just going to have to keep ignoring how everyone stared at him.

~~~~

Merlin was woken the next morning by Gaius, who had somehow found his room at the tavern.

“Up, silly boy,” he said as Merlin stirred. “I’ve got work for you.”

“What?” Merlin asked groggily. He sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “What work?”

“Delivering remedies. Come on, get up. And bring your things with you,” he said as he left.

Merlin got up and got dressed, helping himself to a few more bites of bread, and shoved his things back into his bag. He carried it out into the main part of the tavern to find Gaius chatting with the innkeeper.

“—doesn’t belong here,” the innkeeper was saying.

“I don’t think that’s your call to make,” Gaius said. He turned to see Merlin and smiled. “Ah. All ready? Come along.”

Merlin followed Gaius out of the tavern and up the path to the castle.

“Why’d you have me bring my things?” he asked.

“Well, there’s no sense in you staying in that tavern every night when I have a perfectly good room for you.”

“A room?”

“Yes, a room.”

Merlin didn’t understand, but he continued following Gaius anyway. When they reached his chambers, Gaius pointed to a door on the far side of the room that Merlin hadn’t noticed the day before. There were a few stairs leading up to it.

“Through there,” he said.

Merlin went up the stairs and peeked inside. There was a single bed in the middle, plus a desk and a cupboard.

“Isn’t this your room?” he asked.

“I sleep out here,” Gaius said, gesturing at the bed in the corner. “I’m usually up late working, and by the time I go to bed I’m too tired to walk up those stairs.”

“Gaius, I can’t stay here,” Merlin said. “That’s too much, you don’t have to do this.”

“Nonsense. The room is there, you’re working for me anyway, what’s the problem? Go put your things down and I’ll get you started on today’s deliveries.”

Gaius went over to his workbench, and that seemed to be the end of the discussion.

Merlin stepped into the room and dropped his bag on the bed. It was a nice room, small, but with a high window. Merlin stepped up onto the desk to check out the view. He could see other parts of the castle and the city and the woods, and there were mountains in the distance, and he’d never seen anything quite like it. He could see so much, so far, and it was beautiful.

“Merlin!”

Merlin stepped back down and went out to Gaius’s workbench. Gaius gave Merlin the same bag from the day before, and Merlin loaded it up with vials for his patients. There was another one for Sir Olwin, the blind man from the day before, as well as for the Lady Morgana, but the rest were new, and Gaius gave him a long list of directions for how to find the recipients. Not all of them even lived in the castle, some lived out in the city.

He set out with a stuffed bag and a head full of jumbled directions. He passed by other castle workers in the corridors, and most of them still stared at him as he passed, and he did his best to pretend it wasn’t happening. He had as much right as any of them to be here. He was getting paid for this, and he wasn’t doing anything wrong. He might have been new, but eventually they would get used to him.

He made his way to Sir Olwin’s first, and the man invited him in to put the vial on his dresser. The room was cold and covered in dust and cobwebs, and Merlin didn’t understand how he could live like that. He might have been blind, but surely he had someone he could ask to help start up the fireplace or at least clean.

Lady Morgana’s chambers were next, and Merlin was a little disappointed to find her alone this time.

“Still helping Gaius?” she asked when she opened her door. She stepped aside, letting him in.

“Yes. He seems quite eager for the help.”

“I don’t think he relished having to traipse all around the castle every day.”

“Now I get to do it instead.” Merlin held out her potion, and she took it, her fingers brushing against his. Her hand was as cold as Sir Olwin’s had been the day before.

“Thank you,” she said, setting the vial down on a table by the window.

“You’re welcome.” Merlin turned to leave.

“Wait—”

Merlin stopped with his hand on the doorknob and looked over his shoulder. Lady Morgana was still by the window, the sun shimmering off her gown.

“I just… you’ll be careful, won’t you?” she asked.

Merlin nodded even though he didn’t understand. Morgana didn’t look mollified, and he turned to face her.

“What should I be careful about?”

“You stand out a lot,” she said quietly. “I’m not sure you want that kind of attention.”

“I don’t,” Merlin said. “But I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong.”

“You’re not doing anything _wrong_ , you’re just…” She trailed off, looking worried. “Just be careful.”

“I don’t understand.” Merlin wanted so desperately to know what she was talking about. She knew why he was such an outsider—she clearly knew. He couldn’t imagine why she was being so secretive about it.

Lady Morgana shook her head, and Merlin sighed before nodding his farewell and leaving her chambers.

He still didn’t feel any closer to answers. If anything, he felt farther away from them. Everyone knew something he didn’t, and no one was willing to tell him what it was.

He delivered the rest of Gaius’s potions, and while no one acted completely shocked to see him, there were a lot of wide eyes, open mouths, furrowed brows. He got sick of it quickly.

When he returned to Gaius’s, he was sent on another mission to the woods to pick rosemary and yarrow, and he was glad for it. He wanted a break from all the staring.

He did stop by the bakery on his way out of the city, and the baker seemed ready for him.

“How much?” Merlin asked, determined to pay this time.

“Nothing. But I got you some cheese as well.” The baker handed over a loaf and a smaller, wrapped package.

“Why won’t you let me pay?”

The baker just waved him off, apparently unconcerned. Merlin pocketed his money and put the bread and cheese in his bag.

He went out to the woods, stopping when he came to a clearing where he could sit on a stump. At least out here he could eat in peace.

The cheese was good, and the bread was even better with it, and he ate his fill before continuing deeper into the woods.

As he walked, he started hearing strange sounds, like someone else was walking nearby, but he couldn’t see anyone. He kept looking around, to the left, to the right, behind him, but there was no one. Just the sound of footsteps.

Merlin found some rosemary and crouched down to pick it. He heard a stick crunch, and when he looked over his shoulder, Prince Arthur was there.

“Oh,” he said, standing up. “It’s you.”

“Don’t exert yourself with that enthusiasm.”

Merlin smirked. “You’re very… stealthy.”

“I’ve spent years training to hunt, Merlin.”

“What, am I your prey?”

Prince Arthur’s smile lit up his eyes. “Yeah. Not much meat on you, but your head would look nice mounted on my wall.”

“That’s a bit dark.”

The prince shrugged.

Merlin put the rosemary in his bag and pulled out the leftover cheese. “Would you like some?” he asked. Prince Arthur just stared down at the cheese like he wasn’t sure what it was. “It’s not poisoned,” Merlin teased.

“No, thank you,” Prince Arthur said quietly. “I’m not hungry.”

Merlin shrugged and put the cheese back in his bag. “So, your sister is a little strange.”

Prince Arthur grinned. “She sure is. What’d she do this time?”

“I went to drop off something from Gaius, and she kept insisting that I be careful. She wouldn’t say why or what I should be careful of, just kept warning me to be careful.”

The prince’s smile faded. “She’s not wrong.”

“Are _you_ going to tell me why I should be careful?”

Prince Arthur just stared at him. Merlin sighed and turned back to the rosemary to pick some more. Maybe royalty was always this cryptic. He certainly wouldn’t know.

“Why did you come here?” Prince Arthur asked.

“I told you yesterday.”

“I mean… why did you leave your home?”

“I had to.”

“Why?”

Merlin said nothing. The royals weren’t the only ones who could keep secrets.

“What about your friend?” Prince Arthur asked.

“What about him?”

“Don’t you miss him?”

“Of course I do. That doesn’t mean I didn’t have good reason to leave.”

“What about your mother?”

Merlin stood back up, stuffing rosemary in his bag. “Yes, I miss her, too. That doesn’t change anything.”

“Why not?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re very annoying and intrusive?”

Prince Arthur smiled. “Morgana tells me that all the time.”

“Well, I guess that makes two things she’s right about.” He turned away and walked on, keeping his eyes peeled for yarrow.

To his dismay, the prince followed him. “Why’d you leave?” he asked again.

“Because I had to,” Merlin said again.

“You’re no fun.”

“Never claimed to be fun.” Merlin picked some berries off a bush and popped them in his mouth as he walked.

“How do you know _those_ aren’t poisonous?”

“Because I grew up picking berries with my friend nearly every day. Can’t tell you the number of times I ruined my appetite for supper because I’d stuffed my face full of berries in the afternoon.”

“I bet your mother loved that.”

“It meant more food for her, actually. She probably didn’t mind as much as she pretended.”

“Were you poor?”

“Well, we certainly weren’t rich. We managed. We had enough.” Merlin glanced over his shoulder. “Why do you ask?”

“I told you—you’re interesting,” Prince Arthur said.

“I promise I’m not.”

“That’s not for you to decide.”

They walked in silence for a while, with Merlin keeping an eye out for the yarrow plant and Prince Arthur whacking trees with a stick he’d found.

“Didn’t you say you wouldn’t be back today?” the prince finally asked.

“Change of plans.” Merlin spotted the right flowers at last and bent down to uproot them.

“Gaius still paying you?”

“Yes. He’s given me a room as well.”

“You’re staying in the castle?” Prince Arthur asked.

Merlin stood, tucking the yarrow into his bag. “Is that a problem?”

“No,” Prince Arthur said, although he wasn’t convincing. “Just… it gets cold. It’s draughty.”

“I’m sure I’ll manage.” Merlin turned back toward the city, and Prince Arthur walked after him. “Do you really not have anything better to do than follow me around?”

“Not today.”

“Nor yesterday.”

“And probably not tomorrow, either.”

“Being a prince sounds like hard work,” Merlin said.

“It can be.” Prince Arthur caught up, walking next to Merlin.

“Which aspects, exactly, are hard?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“You could try me.”

Prince Arthur reached out, taking Merlin’s arm and forcing him to stop walking. His hand was freezing cold even through his leather glove. Merlin turned to look at him, shrugging out of his grip. His gaze dropped to Merlin’s lips, and Merlin wondered, again, if the prince was going to kiss him.

Merlin let his own gaze fall to Prince Arthur’s lips, taking in the plump lower one, the dip in the middle of the upper one, how wide they were, how soft they looked.

“Will you be back tomorrow?” the prince asked.

Merlin nodded, forcing himself to look away from Prince Arthur’s lips. “I don’t exactly have anywhere else to go.”

The prince frowned, and Merlin’s gaze dropped to his mouth again. “You shouldn’t stay.”

“You said that yesterday.”

“Yes. I told you most people ignore my advice.”

“Maybe if you explained yourself properly.”

Prince Arthur shook his head. Merlin sighed and turned back toward the castle. He picked up the pace, and the prince didn’t bother to keep up with him, so he reached the city first. He went straight for Gaius’s, and when he checked for Prince Arthur behind him halfway there, he found that he wasn’t being followed anymore.

~~~~

Merlin spent the next few days like that, passing out medicine in the morning and gathering supplies and ingredients for Gaius in the afternoons. It was good to have something to occupy his time, and he was slowly learning the ins and outs of the castle.

The baker continued giving him food whenever he passed by, never saying why, never making much conversation at all. The most he’d asked for so far was for Merlin to take a bite of his bread while at the stall. Merlin had done so, and the baker had asked how it was, and that was it. He seemed perfectly satisfied to give out his products for free as long as Merlin was satisfied with the quality.

Other people still stared at him, though. A little less than they had on the first day, maybe, now that they were somewhat used to his presence, but they still stared. Merlin was almost getting accustomed to it. At least, he mostly no longer cared. He had as much right to live and work in Camelot as anyone else. He wasn’t causing anyone any harm, and he was minding his own business. If people had a problem with that, that was on them and not on him.

He couldn’t help but appreciate his trips outside of the city to collect herbs. It gave him respite from all the eyes constantly on him, and it gave him time out in the woods, which was almost like being back in Ealdor. He had spent so much time in the woods growing up, playing with Will and climbing trees and getting into trouble. The woods near Camelot were bigger, denser, but it felt nearly the same.

For whatever reason, Prince Arthur became a regular at Merlin’s herb-gathering sessions. Every time Merlin would set out from the castle, the prince wasn’t far behind. He certainly didn’t help Merlin collecting the ingredients, but he wasn’t exactly a hindrance, either. He spent a lot of time watching Merlin, saying nothing and looking at Merlin like _he_ was the weird one.

It was baffling. Merlin was sure the prince had better things to do with his time than watch some random herb picking, but he certainly didn’t act like it. He acted like Merlin was the most fascinating part of his day. When he wasn’t silently watching Merlin work, he was asking all sorts of intrusive questions about Merlin’s childhood, Will, Merlin’s mother, Merlin’s likes and dislikes, anything and everything. He had questions for days, and Merlin did his best to give answers even though he didn’t understand the point. It was almost like the prince had never talked to a commoner before.

Merlin got used to it, though, the same way he got used to the staring. If he was honest with himself, it was nice to have company. It was almost like having a friend. And it was a much better kind of attention than what he got in the castle from the people who stared but didn’t dare speak to him.

One morning, in his second week, Merlin had just finished delivering Morgana’s potion when he saw an older man in the corridor. He hadn’t seen the man before, but he was wearing a crown, and he was walking importantly, and he had to be the king.

Before Merlin could get a good look, however, he was yanked behind a tapestry and into an apparently hidden alcove.

“What—”

“Be quiet.”

It was dark behind the tapestry, but Merlin recognised the voice. It was Prince Arthur.

“What are you doing?” Merlin asked in a whisper. “Why were you hiding in here?”

“I wasn’t, I was walking behind you.”

“Why were you—”

Prince Arthur put his gloved hand over Merlin’s mouth to keep him from talking. Merlin was struck again by how he could feel Arthur’s cold skin through the leather.

Merlin listened, confused, as voices from the corridor grew louder and then trailed off as whoever it was walked by and moved away.

The prince lowered his hand.

“What’s going on?” Merlin asked, still keeping his voice low.

“I’m sorry,” Prince Arthur said. “I had to.”

“And why is that?”

“My father… you can’t be seen.”

Merlin blinked, trying to clear his vision and look at the prince, but it was pitch black behind the tapestry. It was stuffy, too, the air far too close. Or maybe it was the prince that was too close. Merlin could feel the cold radiating off him like he was some kind of frozen sun.

“Why can’t I be seen?” he asked. He tried to take a step back, but Prince Arthur reached out, holding his side, keeping him in place. Merlin shivered at the cold hand on his hip.

“You have to be careful, Merlin,” he said, his voice low and private and full of some meaning Merlin just couldn’t grasp.

“Are you going to tell me why?”

“You know why.”

“I promise you I don’t.”

Prince Arthur was silent for a long moment. “My father,” he finally said, “he’ll have you run out of Camelot. In the best case scenario.”

“And in the worst?”

The prince said nothing, just dropped his hand from Merlin’s side. Merlin sighed, trying to understand, trying to read between the lines, trying to figure out what it was that Prince Arthur was trying to tell him. He just wanted a straight answer.

“Because I’m new?” he asked.

“Because you’re…” the prince trailed off. “Because you’re you.”

“Does my reputation precede me?” Merlin asked with a laugh.

“Something like that.”

“I don’t understand—”

Prince Arthur’s hand came up to cover Merlin’s mouth again, and they listened as voices grew nearer again and then fainter. Merlin breathed against the prince’s icy hand.

“Merlin,” the prince whispered, “you have to be careful.” He pulled his hand away slowly, his thumb brushing deliberately across Merlin’s lips, and then he pulled back the tapestry and went on his way.

Merlin stayed where he was for a minute, feeling slightly dizzy at the sudden loss of contact. He let the stuffy air thaw him out, and he could tell how warm it was behind the tapestry now that the prince was gone.

Why was Arthur so insistent that Merlin be careful? What would happen if the king saw him? Surely he couldn’t object that much to Merlin. Merlin was nobody. There was nothing about him that could possibly offend the king.

Except, there was something about him that everyone but Merlin could see. Whatever it was, it put Merlin at risk when it came to the king.

If only someone would just _tell him_ so he could fix it.

And then there was the matter of Prince Arthur’s seeming obsession with Merlin’s lips. Merlin had no idea what to make of that. No one had ever paid his lips any attention before, least of all someone as high up as a prince. Least of all someone as glowingly beautiful as this particular price.

Merlin scrubbed his hands over his face and listened for any voices, but there were no sounds coming from the corridor. He stepped out from behind the tapestry and, checking his bag, headed off again. He still had potions to deliver.

~~~~

Merlin stopped by the baker on his way out of the city that afternoon, and he was treated to not only bread and cheese but some meat as well. He thanked the baker profusely, trying to hand over some coins, but the baker waved him off as usual.

Securing the food in his bag, Merlin headed into the woods. He walked farther than he ever had before, until he didn’t recognise where he was, and then he stopped to make a fire.

He’d never been good at starting up a fire in the old fashioned way, but out here, alone in the woods, that didn’t matter. He piled up some sticks, held out his hand, and magicked up some flames.

The fire was warm and comforting, and Merlin admired it for a few minutes, letting it heat up properly before he started cooking his meat over it.

“So you do know.”

Merlin startled, turning around and seeing Prince Arthur coming up behind him.

“Know what?” Merlin asked, hoping the prince hadn’t seen him start the fire.

“Know that you have magic.”

Merlin tensed. “What? I don’t have magic.”

The prince gave him a look. “No? You just started that fire with your mind _not_ using magic?”

“I didn’t…” Merlin looked down at the fire, his thoughts whirring. Prince Arthur had seen him. He’d been so careful not to give himself away. He hadn’t used magic at all since coming to Camelot. He hadn’t dared.

Until now. He thought he’d been safe.

The prince sat himself on a log and held out his hands, warming them in the fire. He wasn’t wearing his gloves.

“Your hands are very cold,” Merlin said, figuring he might as well change the subject while he could.

“Yes, they are. And you have magic.”

“I don’t—”

“I saw you, Merlin,” Prince Arthur said, looking up at him.

“Look—” Merlin cut himself off, realising he didn’t actually know how to address the prince. “I’m not sure what to call you. My lord?”

Prince Arthur grinned. “You can call me Arthur.”

“Right. Look, Arthur—”

“Please don’t insult my intelligence by lying to me.”

Merlin wasn’t sure what to say to that.

“Don’t you ever have anything more important to do with your afternoons?” he asked.

“Than try to figure you out?” Arthur asked. “No.”

“What have you been trying to figure out?”

“Whether you knew you had magic.”

“Why did you think I had magic?” Merlin asked. Arthur gave him a look. “Before just now, I mean.”

Arthur shrugged. “Does it matter?”

“Is that why everyone’s been staring at me? Because… because they can tell?”

“That might be part of it,” Arthur said.

Merlin sat on the other side of the log, resting his face in his hands and trying to comprehend. People could _see_ that he had magic. Somehow. It wasn’t something he wore on his skin. It was something inside him, something deep and part of his core. Something perfectly invisible.

He didn’t understand how everyone could have suspected him.

“What is it?” he asked, lifting his head and turning to look at Arthur. “What is it about me that gives it away?”

Arthur frowned at the fire. “I can’t say.”

“Because you don’t know? Or do you mean that you know but _won’t_ say?”

Arthur said nothing. Merlin sighed.

“Is this why you think I’m so interesting?” he asked.

“Yes. I haven’t met many people with magic.”

“Me neither.”

“Really?” Arthur turned to look at him. “There weren’t any others in Ealdor?”

“No. They… the villagers, they didn’t understand me. They thought I was dangerous.”

“And that’s why you had to leave,” Arthur said.

Merlin nodded. “I didn’t want to.”

“Merlin, you can’t stay here,” Arthur said, and he sounded sad. “It’s not safe.”

“Because of your father?”

“He hates magic more than anything.”

Merlin shook his head. “I don’t have anywhere else to go. I have a job here, I have… I have this baker who gives me free food for some reason, I have a place to sleep, and…”

“There has to be somewhere else,” Arthur said. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I can handle myself,” Merlin said. He stood back up and fished the meat out of the fire. He took the bread and cheese out of his bag and sat back down, fashioning himself a meal. “Would you like some?” he asked Arthur.

Arthur just shook his head.

Merlin shrugged and ate in silence, trying to ignore the way Arthur was watching him. It felt strangely intimate to have someone observe him eating alone.

When he was finished, he packed up the leftovers in his bag and stretched out his legs, letting his feet be warmed by the still-roaring fire.

“I don’t think it would be possible to not know you have magic,” he said, staring at the flames. “I can’t remember ever not knowing.”

“What’s it like?” Arthur asked. “When you use it, how does it feel?”

“It feels like I’m whole. Like I’m the best possible version of myself.”

“Sounds wonderful.”

“It is. I wish… I wish people understood that it’s nothing to fear.”

“It can be,” Arthur said. “Not everyone uses their magic for good.”

“The other people you’ve met with magic, did they not use it for good?”

Arthur said nothing.

Merlin wished Arthur would just talk to him. Clearly this was an important topic, but he was keeping everything close to his chest. Merlin wondered if maybe he had been scorned by someone with magic. He couldn’t imagine what that would have entailed, though.

“Will you show me something?” Arthur asked.

“Show you what?”

“Some magic.”

Merlin considered the request. He’d never done magic in front of anyone besides Will and his mother, at least not on purpose. No one in Ealdor had ever appreciated him enough to ask. They’d only ever been afraid.

“What would you like to see?” Merlin asked.

“Whatever you want to show me.”

Merlin looked at the fire. He held out his hand, and the smoke gathered together in the shape of a horse. He made it rear its head and kick up its front legs, the smoke swirling in an approximation of a mane.

He glanced over, and Arthur was watching the horse with a look of awe.

Merlin lowered his hand slowly, the horse dissipating and the smoke returning to normal.

Arthur turned to look at Merlin, and his gaze fell predictably to Merlin’s lips.

“Arthur?” Merlin asked, unnerved by the prolonged silence.

Arthur cleared his throat and looked away, back toward the fire. “Thank you,” he said softly.

“You’re welcome.”

“I should get back to the castle.”

“All right.”

Arthur stayed where he was, though. Merlin watched him for a while, taking in the way the sun bounced off his light-coloured hair, the way his lips fell into a pout, the way the fire reflected in his eyes. He had a very nice profile.

Merlin imagined moving over on the log and planting a kiss on Arthur’s lips. It would be cold, probably, but also probably soft. He wondered what Arthur would taste like.

“Merlin,” Arthur said, “are you going to stay?”

“I’d like to.”

Arthur nodded and got to his feet. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said. He walked off, leaves and sticks crunching beneath his feet.

Merlin listened to the sounds of Arthur’s retreat until all could he hear was the crackling of the fire.

He’d been found out, and Arthur hadn’t rejected him. Apparently everyone knew—Gaius must know as well—and while there was a lot of staring, there hadn’t been any flat out rejection of his presence. No one was running him out of Camelot the way he’d been run out of Ealdor.

Maybe he really could make a life for himself in Camelot. If everyone knew about his magic and accepted him anyway, maybe he didn’t need an entire magical community. Maybe he just needed more time to settle in, more time to let people get used to him.

The only issue was the king, but Merlin had managed to avoid detection so far.

He only wished he knew _how_ everyone could tell he had magic.

Merlin stamped out his fire and hurried to collect the day’s herbs for Gaius. When he made it back to the castle, Gaius was at his workbench, mixing together ingredients.

“Can I ask you something?” Merlin asked, setting out the supplies he’d gathered.

“Of course,” Gaius said without looking up.

“Can you tell?”

“Tell what?”

“Can you tell that I… that I have magic?”

Gaius looked up. “What?”

“Arthur said—”

“ _Arthur?_ ”

“The prince,” Merlin said. “He said he could tell. He can see it somehow.”

Gaius stared at him. “Merlin,” he said slowly, “it’s not something I can easily explain.”

“But you can see it, too?”

Gaius nodded.

“How?” Merlin asked. “No one outside of Camelot can see magic, and everyone here can? How?”

“It’s like I said.” Gaius turned back to his work. “It’s not easy to explain.”

Merlin sighed and went to his room. He climbed up on his desk and leaned out the window, taking in the view. It was such a majestic view, truly breath-taking. The world looked so big, and Merlin felt so small, and maybe it didn’t matter if everyone somehow knew he had magic. Maybe it didn’t matter how they knew. Maybe it was better this way. Now he didn’t have to hide who he was.

There was the matter of the king, but Merlin had managed to steer clear of him so far, and that hadn’t even been on purpose. He was sure it wouldn’t be hard to keep avoiding him.

Merlin climbed back down and sat at the desk, pulling out the rest of his bread and cheese and helping himself to an early supper.

~~~~

Merlin woke up the next morning in a good mood. Everyone knew he had magic, and he’d still managed to make a place for himself in Camelot, and the sun was shining cheerily through his window.

He made his morning rounds, delivering various potions, and made a point to smile at everyone who stared at him. He got a few smiles in return, and it was shaping up to be an excellent day.

When he reached Lady Morgana’s room, he found Arthur with her.

“You look very chipper this morning,” Lady Morgana said as she took her vial with her cold hands.

“I’m having a good day,” Merlin said with a smile. He glanced over at Arthur, who was by the windows, but Arthur wasn’t smiling. He was staring out the window with a distinct pout. “Which is more than can be said for Arthur, it seems.”

Lady Morgana’s smile was tight. “Don’t mind him, he’s in a mood.”

Merlin waited for Arthur to turn around and acknowledge him or respond to Lady Morgana, but he continued staring out the window as if he hadn’t heard either of them.

“Anything I can help with?” Merlin asked.

“I’m afraid not,” Lady Morgana said. Then, in a rush, she asked, “Do you really have to stay here, Merlin?”

“I—no, I can go,” Merlin said, a little offended. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No, no. I mean here, in Camelot. Is there nowhere else for you to go?”

“Why should I have to go somewhere else?” Merlin asked. “I have work here, I have a room here, I have something like a friend here.”

“Yes, but…”

“I know I have to be careful of your father. I’ve only spotted him the once, and Arthur saved me from being spotted myself. I’ll be fine.”

“It’s not that, it’s…” Lady Morgana shook her head. “This isn’t a good home for you.”

“That’s what Arthur said. I seem to have made out just fine, though.”

Lady Morgana turned to look at Arthur, but he continued ignoring them.

“Is something wrong?” Merlin asked.

“No,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry for keeping you.”

Merlin took that to be a dismissal and let himself out of her chambers.

He delivered the rest of Gaius’s medicine, feeling a little less cheerful than he had earlier.

Camelot was a perfectly good home for him. It was a strange place, but Merlin was a strange person, and he was starting to really feel like he belonged. He felt seen, and that felt good.

He went back to Gaius’s to get his instructions for the afternoon and stopped by the baker on his way out of the city. He was given bread, meat, and cheese again, and Merlin thanked the baker before heading into the woods.

He walked for a long while, not really searching for the ingredients Gaius had requested, just walking and thinking and waiting for Arthur to join him.

When Arthur took too long, Merlin stopped in a clearing and set up a fire. He stayed close to it, warming himself and thinking that he really needed to find someone to make him some thicker clothes for the winter. He would have to ask Gaius for a recommendation of where to go.

A bitterly cold hand pressed to the small of Merlin’s back, and he turned to see Arthur standing beside him.

“I didn’t hear you coming up.”

“I’m a hunter, remember,” Arthur said. “Besides, the fire is loud.”

Merlin looked back at the fire, and Arthur’s hand stayed on his back, and they stood like that for a long while. Merlin’s chest ached to be even closer to Arthur, to feel his body against his own, to get at more of that strange cold skin. He wanted Arthur, and he was pretty sure Arthur wanted him, and he didn’t want to sit through another day of Arthur staring at his lips.

“Arthur?” he finally asked.

“Yes.”

Merlin turned and, getting a hand on Arthur’s neck, pulled him in for a kiss.

His neck and lips were as cold as his hands. Merlin held on, trying to coax some warmth out of him, but Arthur stayed still, not returning the kiss. His fingers flexed against Merlin’s back, but that was the only sign of him acknowledging what Merlin was doing.

“Arthur,” Merlin whispered, pulling back just enough to speak.

Arthur closed his eyes and stepped away.

“Arthur?”

He shook his head. “We can’t do this.”

“Why not?”

“We just… we can’t. _You_ can’t. It’s not right. It’s not fair.”

“Fair?” Merlin asked. “What are you talking about?”

“None of this is real, Merlin,” Arthur said, clearly agitated. “None of it, especially not me.”

“Real? What do you mean?”

Arthur shook his head again. “You should go.”

“Go where?”

“Anywhere else. Any other place. You just can’t stay here.”

“I think you’ll find I’m perfectly capable of staying here,” Merlin said. “I have no intention of leaving, especially when you refuse to tell me _why_ it’s such a bad idea to stay.”

Arthur looked at him, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed. “Come with me,” he said.

“What—”

“Please.”

“All right.” Merlin put out the fire, abandoning his meal and the search for Gaius’s ingredients, and followed Arthur out of the woods.

~~~~

Arthur led Merlin to the castle, but instead of taking him down any of the corridors Merlin knew, he took him down some stairs, and then more stairs, and more stairs still. He grabbed a torch at one point, and Merlin lit it using magic so they could see their way downward.

“Where are we going?” Merlin asked.

Arthur didn’t respond.

The air grew stale as they descended, and Merlin could see his breath in the dimly lit stairwells, and he pulled his jacket tighter around himself. He was unsettled, and Arthur’s silence wasn’t helping.

“What’s down here?” he asked.

Still, Arthur said nothing.

They finally reached a floor with no more stairs, and Arthur took Merlin down some dark and winding corridors.

Merlin followed, trying to imagine what in the world was going on. He had no idea what could be so far under the rest of the castle. Vaults full of treasure, maybe. Crypts of old kings, perhaps. But why would Arthur want to show him either of those? And what would they have to do with why Arthur wanted Merlin to leave Camelot?

Merlin bumped into Arthur, who had stopped walking.

“Sorry,” he said, stepping back. Arthur was unlocking a door. “What’s inside?”

Arthur just opened the door and handed off the torch, motioning for Merlin to go in.

Merlin did. The room was dusty, clearly untouched for years, maybe decades. There was a tomb in the centre, and it was covered in cobwebs.

Merlin blew off the dust to better see the engravings. Maybe this was a relative of Arthur’s. He didn’t know why Arthur would show him that, but there had to be some importance to it.

The carving on the lid was of a young man with a square jaw and round lips. It could have passed for a sculpture of Arthur. It had to be some close relative, maybe a grandfather whose likeness had been passed down.

Merlin brushed off more debris and found something etched into the stone.

It was Arthur’s name.

He looked around, and Arthur was in a corner, watching him.

“What is this?” Merlin asked. “Who is this?”

“It’s me.”

“You… have a tomb already prepared for you?” Merlin asked. “That’s a little morbid.”

“No,” Arthur said. He looked remarkably pale in the dark.

Merlin’s mind was spinning. He didn’t understand. None of this made any sense. And he was so cold down here. He rubbed his free hand against his trousers, wishing he had pockets.

“My father has hated magic for as long as I’ve known him,” Arthur said, his gaze on the floor. “When I was younger—much too young to remember—he tried to purge magic from Camelot. He killed anyone who practised it.”

Merlin tightened his grip on the torch.

“He killed a lot of people,” Arthur said quietly. “Many more went into hiding or left the kingdom entirely. There was one sorceress, though, who wanted revenge. She wanted my father to feel the same pain he’d inflicted on others.”

“She tried to kill him?” Merlin guessed.

Arthur shook his head. “She waited many years. She waited until Camelot was prospering and I had come of age. And then she came out of hiding and walked right through Camelot’s gates.”

“Wasn’t she recognised?”

“She was in disguise. She hid her true face until she reached the throne room. She pretended to be a petitioner with some plea for the king, and she was granted an audience, and then…”

“And then?” Merlin asked. His heart was pounding, although he didn’t know why.

“She cast her spell. I’ve never felt anything like it before, it ripped through me like a gust of wind. The whole castle trembled with it, the sky rumbled and the earth shook, and… and then it was over.”

“What happened?”

“We died.”

Merlin let that hang between them for a moment. “What do you mean?”

“I mean we _died_ , Merlin.” Arthur looked up at him. “My body fell to the ground. Everyone around me collapsed. There was no one left breathing, not in the entire castle, not in the entire city.”

Merlin didn’t understand. It didn’t make any sense. What Arthur was saying couldn’t possibly be true.

“The sorceress cast another spell, and I got up. I left my body behind, though. Everyone did. We rose again, but we were… insubstantial. I could see right through myself. I still can.”

“You look real enough to me,” Merlin said, trying to keep his grip on reality even if Arthur had lost his.

“Because you have magic,” Arthur said. “This city is dead, Merlin. The people here, they go about the same daily business they had when they were alive, but there’s no point to it. Gaius makes potions no one needs, because no one’s ill. The cooks in the kitchen make food that no one eats. Everyone’s stuck in their habits, but none of it matters.”

“Arthur,” Merlin said slowly. He could barely breathe. “Why are you saying these things?”

“Because they’re true. Open the tomb, see for yourself if you don’t believe me.”

Merlin struggled to swallow. His throat was tight, his limbs were stiff, everything felt off.

He was so sure Arthur was playing some horrible joke on him, and yet, in the back of his mind, things started to piece together. The staring. The free food. The coldness of Arthur’s skin, of everyone’s skin. Merlin had kissed him, and he hadn’t tasted like anything. He hadn’t breathed against Merlin’s lips. Merlin wondered if he’d ever noticed Arthur breathing at all. He certainly wasn’t now. He was unnaturally still in the dark, eyes on Merlin, face calm and earnest.

Merlin turned to the tomb and held out his hand. He concentrated on force, on movement, and the lid shifted slowly to the side before falling to the ground and cracking.

Merlin could hear himself panting in the quiet room. He felt wild, like everything was wrong.

There was a body in the tomb, dressed in fine clothes, half rotted and looking like it had been dead for longer than Merlin had been alive.

“You can’t stay here,” Arthur said, and Merlin nearly jumped out of his skin because Arthur was somehow suddenly standing right next to him. “There’s nothing here for you. There’s nothing here but death.”

“Arthur…” Merlin trailed off. He just couldn’t believe it. It couldn’t be true. Arthur was standing right next to him. How could he be the man in the tomb?

Arthur held out his hand for Merlin to see. There was a ring on his first finger. There was a ring on the decaying hand of the corpse as well. The same ring.

“You buried yourself,” Merlin heard himself say. “You buried a whole kingdom.”

“Now you understand why you have to leave. You deserve a real life. You should be somewhere with real people.”

Merlin shook his head. “No real people want me,” he said. “I was run out of my own village. Camelot’s the only place I found that would have me.”

“Then you haven’t looked hard enough. You’re a good person, Merlin. You’ll find somewhere nice, somewhere that will appreciate you. Somewhere you can be yourself with people who still breathe.”

“I don’t want that.” Merlin stared down at the body in the tomb. “Maybe I can bring you back.”

“Merlin—”

“If you died by magic, maybe you can live again by magic.”

“Merlin, no.”

Merlin shoved the torch at Arthur. “It can’t hurt to try.”

“Merlin—”

Merlin ignored him and climbed up onto the tomb. He sat on the edge and leaned forward, covering the dead Arthur’s hands with his own.

“You don’t have to do this,” Arthur said.

“I want to.”

Merlin closed his eyes and thought about life, about breathing, about being solid and real and alive. He pushed his magic down though his arms, through his hands, into the body beneath him.

Nothing happened.

He pushed more, breathing hard, shoving his magic forward. He could feel it leaving his core, pooling in his fingers before settling into the corpse.

It wasn’t enough.

“You’ll hurt yourself,” Arthur said, but Merlin didn’t care.

He pushed harder, feeling himself draining, feeling lightheaded, feeling an unnatural tingling in his fingers. His chest was seizing with the effort, his vision blurring, blood rushing in his ears. Still, he pulled at his magic, pouring it into Arthur’s lifeless form, filling the remains with everything he had to give, and then he kept going.

“Merlin!”

Arthur’s voice was distant, and Merlin thought he heard screaming but he wasn’t sure where it was coming from, and then everything went dark.

~~~~

“Merlin. Merlin! Merlin, please, please wake up. Merlin.”

Merlin stirred, consciousness filtering slowly into his mind. His whole body ached, and he was shivering, and he was lying on something uncomfortably cool and hard.

“What happened?” he muttered, opening his eyes.

The torch was on the floor, flickering weakly and lighting the room from below. Arthur was sitting in front of Merlin, dressed regally in a cloak and a crown. He had more colour in his cheeks than Merlin had ever seen before. Even in the barely lit crypt, he looked alive.

“You’re all right,” Arthur said, exhaling in relief. “You’re all right.”

Merlin sat up and looked around, searching for the other Arthur, but there was no one else. They were in the tomb together, Arthur looking whole and Merlin still trembling. Arthur’s hands were on Merlin’s arms, rubbing up and down, and for once they weren’t cold.

“Arthur,” Merlin managed, his voice weak, “you’re… did it work? Are you…”

“I’m here,” Arthur said. “I’m back. I’m me again.”

Merlin grabbed at Arthur’s hands, feeling for himself how warm and real they were. He trailed his hands up Arthur’s arms, over the cloak, to his neck. His skin was warm there, too.

“You nearly killed yourself doing that,” Arthur said, holding onto Merlin’s neck in the same way.

“But it worked.”

“Somehow. Are you all right?”

“I’ll be fine.”

Arthur cupped Merlin’s cheek with one hand, brushing his thumb over his lips. “Thank you.”

Instead of saying anything in response, Merlin leaned forward for a kiss, and this time Arthur returned it. His lips were soft and warm, and they were moving against Merlin’s, and he was alive.

Arthur broke the kiss, resting his forehead against Merlin’s. “Now what?” he asked.

“I don’t know.”

Taking a deep breath, Arthur leaned away and gave Merlin a long look. “I still say you shouldn’t stay here.”

“I’m not leaving without you.”

To Merlin’s surprise, Arthur smiled. “We could go anywhere,” he said. “Anywhere at all.”

“Or we could stay. Your life is here, your family.”

“That’s all long gone,” Arthur said. “It’s time for something new.”

“Are you sure?”

Arthur nodded. He climbed out of the tomb and helped Merlin out as well. Merlin still felt weak, and he leaned on Arthur, trying to get his balance.

“What do you need?” Arthur asked, brushing his fingers through Merlin’s hair.

“Sleep, probably. And food.”

“Gods, food,” Arthur moaned. “I can’t remember the last time I ate.”

Merlin smiled and stood a little straighter as Arthur leaned down to get the torch.

“Let’s find you a bed. And then I’ll get us some food.”

Merlin murmured his agreement and let Arthur guide him out of the crypt. They walked back up the stairs, taking a few breaks for Merlin to catch his breath, until they finally reached a floor with windows. Merlin sat on the windowsill, trying to pull his strength together.

Arthur kissed him on the forehead. “We’re almost there,” he said.

Merlin nodded and stood, his vision going a little grey around the edges. He blinked, and the corridor came into focus, and he recognised where he was. They were close to Arthur’s chambers.

“Come on,” Arthur said, taking Merlin’s hand and tugging him along.

They passed by the usual servants and knights and nobles as they walked, and Merlin could see the second each of them realised what they were looking at. People stopped in their tracks, dropped what they were holding, let their jaws hang open as they stared at Arthur.

Arthur ignored them all, leading Merlin up one last set of stairs and, finally, into his room.

“Bed,” he said, guiding Merlin over to it. “I’ll find food.”

Merlin didn’t have it in him to say anything in response. He lay down, and sleep overtook him before his head hit the pillow.

~~~~

When Merlin woke again, he was alone in the prince’s chambers. The sun had gone down, leaving him in the dark. He got up, feeling much more steady on his feet, and found some candles to light.

He went over to the windows and looked down at the courtyard and out over the city. He could see people moving about, finishing their day’s work, stuck in their endless loop of unfulfillment.

He wished he could help them all, but he’d only just managed to help Arthur.

“You’re up.”

Merlin turned around to see Arthur coming into the room and carrying a platter. He set it down on the table and lifted the lid, showing off what he’d found.

It looked marvellous. There was fruit and bread and cheese and meat and even a bowl of soup.

“Where did you get all this?” Merlin asked, sitting at the table.

Arthur sat opposite him, pushing the platter so it was between them and grabbing a bunch of grapes. “Kitchens,” he said. “Dig in.” He popped a grape in his mouth and moaned as he bit down on it. “That’s so good.”

Merlin grinned and reached for the soup. They ate mostly in silence, both too preoccupied with the meal to talk, until there was nothing left.

“That’s the best meal I’ve ever had in my life,” Arthur said, leaning back in his chair. “This life, at least.”

Merlin chuckled. He licked his lips, savouring the last taste of food. “Did anyone see you?”

“Nearly everyone,” Arthur said. “Word got out quickly.”

“What about your father?”

Arthur’s lighthearted expression faded. “I’m not sure anyone would dare tell him. I’ll have to find him in the morning.”

“What do you think he’ll do?”

“There’s no telling. It doesn’t matter now, though. We have the whole night to not worry about it.”

Merlin smiled, and they spent a moment looking at each other. Merlin couldn’t believe the difference he could see in Arthur. He wondered how he’d managed to miss all the signs before. The prince looked so _alive_ now, like spring woken up after a long winter.

“Are you feeling better?” Arthur asked.

“Yes, thank you. Your bed is very comfortable.”

“Is it?” Arthur asked. “I barely remember. I haven’t used it in ages.”

“You didn’t sleep?”

“I didn’t need to,” Arthur said. “I tried at first. I’d lay awake for hours, just staring at the ceiling and thinking about my life… all the things I wish I’d gotten a chance to do, or things I should have done differently.”

“Like what?”

“I never got to fall in love. After I died, I thought I’d never get the chance.” Arthur gave Merlin a shy sort of smile. “Then you came along.”

Merlin warmed at the implication, returning Arthur’s smile. “Happy to help.”

Arthur stood and stretched out with a groan. He went over to the windows Merlin had been at earlier and looked out over his kingdom. Merlin left him alone for a few minutes, but then he went over and stood next to him, placing a hand on his back.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked.

“Leaving,” Arthur said. “Walking out of Camelot and never coming back. Or maybe… walking out of Camelot and finding someone who knows how to break the curse without hurting themselves. Coming back and giving everyone life again.”

“We could try,” Merlin said. “I don’t know anyone else with magic, but they have to be out there somewhere.”

“Yes.” Arthur turned to look at Merlin. “Would you come with me?”

“Of course.”

Arthur grinned and leaned in for a kiss. It was gentle, soothing, and Merlin melted into it.

They stayed by the windows, wrapped in each other, until the candles started to burn down and go out. The room flickered dimly around them, the last remnants of the day fading away.

“I think it’s bedtime,” Arthur whispered against Merlin’s lips. “Will you stay with me?”

Merlin nodded, and Arthur gave his hand a squeeze before stepping away. He disappeared behind a screen and came out a few minutes later dressed for bed and holding additional nightclothes. He gave them to Merlin, and Merlin changed behind the screen even though Arthur’s things were far too big on him.

When he emerged, he found Arthur already under the covers, looking half asleep. Merlin crawled in after him, and Arthur cosied up behind him, wrapping an arm around his chest.

“I don’t believe I’ve thanked you yet,” Arthur said quietly.

“Hm?” Merlin asked, struggling to keep his eyes open.

“For bringing me back. Thank you.”

Merlin smiled. “You’re welcome.”

Arthur pressed a kiss to the back of Merlin’s neck. “Goodnight, Merlin.”

Merlin reached for Arthur’s hand and curled his fingers around it. “Goodnight.”

~~~~

In the morning, Merlin woke up to find himself alone again. There was a fresh platter of food on the table, suggesting Arthur had already been up long enough to make another trip to the kitchens.

Merlin changed back into his regular clothes and helped himself to some breakfast, making sure to leave enough for Arthur in case he hadn’t eaten yet.

He waited for what felt like a long while, pacing around the room, staring out the window, flopping back down on the bed and looking up at the ceiling.

He imagined Arthur was with the king, and it was a nerve-wracking thought.

Just as Merlin was about to give up waiting and go find Arthur himself, Arthur came back into his chambers. He didn’t look exactly happy.

“I left you some food,” Merlin said.

Arthur eyed the platter. “I’m not hungry,” he said.

“You should eat. Your body needs it now, remember?”

Arthur sighed and sat at the table, pulling the platter toward himself and taking a bite off some bread.

“Where were you?” Merlin asked, sitting across from him.

“With Morgana.”

That surprised Merlin for some reason. “Oh?”

Arthur took another bite. “You should have seen her face when I walked in.”

“I wish I could help her,” Merlin said.

Arthur shook his head. “It’s not worth the risk—you nearly died yesterday. Besides, we’ll… we’ll find some way to help them. I still want to do that. No matter how long it takes.”

“We’ll figure it out.” Merlin waited until Arthur had eaten a bit more before asking, “Have you seen your father?”

“No,” Arthur sighed. “He won’t understand. I don’t know what he would do. He’d… he’d try to come after you. It’s better this way.”

“What way?”

“With us leaving quietly.”

“You don’t want to say goodbye?” Merlin asked.

“It’s not about what I want.”

Merlin wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he let Arthur eat in peace.

When he was finished eating, Arthur pushed back from the table and went over to one of his wardrobes. “I’m going to pack some things. Do you have anything you need to get from Gaius’s?”

“Yes.”

“Now’s the time.”

Merlin went over and gave Arthur a kiss. “Are you all right?”

Arthur smiled. “I will be. With you.”

Merlin gave his side a squeeze and left his chambers. He walked quickly through the castle, ignoring the stares as always. There were whispers this time, too. No doubt word of the prince’s new state had travelled.

He found Gaius at his workbench, toiling away as usual.

“There you are,” he said, looking up from his potions. “I was worried when you didn’t come home last night.”

Merlin looked at Gaius, stuck in his ways, working for nothing, and felt a pang of guilt that he couldn’t help him yet.

“You haven’t heard?” he asked.

“Heard what?”

Merlin licked his lips. “The prince… I…” He cleared his throat. “I found out why everyone’s been staring at me. Arthur showed me his tomb. And I brought him back.”

Gaius blinked at him. “Brought him where?”

“Back. To life.”

“You did what?” Gaius asked, standing. “How? How could you manage something like that?”

“I don’t know,” Merlin said. “It nearly killed me. But he’s back. And… we’re leaving. We’re going to find a cure for the curse on Camelot. We’re going to find a way to bring everyone back.”

“I’m not sure such a cure exists,” Gaius said.

“If it does, we’ll find it,” Merlin said. He went over to the workbench and gave Gaius a hug. “Thank you for everything.”

Gaius patted him on the back. “You’re welcome.”

Merlin pulled away and went to his room, packing his few belongings. Gaius gave him extra blankets for the trip, and then Merlin was ready.

“We’ll come back for you,” he said, loitering by the door to Gaius’s rooms. “We’ll fix this.”

Gaius gave him a smile. “I look forward to it.”

Merlin returned the smile, sure and confident, and left.

He made his way back through the castle, ignoring the stares, ignoring the whispers, and let himself into Arthur’s chambers.

Arthur’s pack was sitting on the table, and he was standing at the windows, watching over the courtyard.

Merlin put his bag next to Arthur’s and joined him.

“All set?” Arthur asked.

Merlin nodded and leaned his head on Arthur’s shoulder. “Are you sure about this?”

“How could I not be? There’s a whole world out there to see. And you’ll be with me.”

Merlin slipped his hand into Arthur’s lacing their fingers together. “I’ll be with you.”

Arthur turned and gave Merlin a kiss. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

They put on their packs, and Arthur added a bag of gold to his belt, and they stopped by the kitchens to get a few provisions.

Then they were well and truly ready, and Arthur led the way out of the castle and through the city.

Everyone stared as they walked by, but Merlin kept his eyes on Arthur. They would come back to Camelot some day, armed with the magic needed to undo the curse, and then there would be no more staring. Everyone would be alive, everyone would be free to do what they wanted, everyone would be free and happy and _living_.

When they reached the woods, Arthur took Merlin’s hand. “Which way?” he asked.

Merlin tugged Arthur along in the opposite direction he’d come from all those days ago, and Arthur followed, and they set off.


End file.
